


man overboard

by foundCarcosa



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 03:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2532401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foundCarcosa/pseuds/foundCarcosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ignoring grief just makes it more likely to overwhelm you when you least expect it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	man overboard

He strode back on the ship with EDI and Javik close behind, checked in with Moreau, checked in with Traynor. Five minutes with a holographic Hackett, a pass-through of the war room, everything routine, everything done with the part of his brain that had done it all so many times before it seemed so much stranger _not_ to.

He had messages, all of them pointing to another trip to the Citadel. Besides the customary politicking, Anderson had orchestrated a shore leave for Adrian and crew the only way he knew how — by scheduling mandatory maintenance for Normandy; Javik wished to see the Citadel; and Liara…

Adrian considered this. Considered downtime in Anderson’s apartment, with Liara, EDI and Moreau off getting into trouble somewhere, Vega and Cortez playing high-stakes drinking games at Purgatory (“Yes, Shepard. I’ll keep an eye on them,” Aria T'Loak sighs, rolling her eyes, “Don’t I always, when I’m here?”).

Their first proper shore leave since Adrian regained the command.  
Without Tali. Without Kelly. Without Mordin.  
 _(Without Thane. Without Jack. Without Kaidan.)_

He was all right, he asserted to himself as the elevator swished open and the galaxy map bloomed in front of him. He had to be all right, didn’t he? All eyes were on him.

"All right. We’ve got a lot of work to do, still, and I’m still going to be doing a lot of it while we’re ashore, but we’ve been practically ordered into a mandatory shore leave by my dear old former commanding officer—"

 _“Yes!_ God bless Anderson!” Moreau yelled, not unexpectedly.

"—so it looks like i’ve been left with no choice but to give you all a break. If you haven't already in your obvious excitement, Moreau, set course for the Ci…"

Adrian hadn’t gotten to see the ocean until he was enlisted, and had been awed by the crash of its waves, the vastness and the depth, and had been disbelieving that anyone could get into it and swim and not be pulled under by its sheer force when one least expected it.  
They hadn’t told him that grief worked much the same way.

"Commander?" Traynor said as soon as his voice trailed off and his shoulders slumped, alarm sharpening her tone, and Adrian automatically responded, "I’m all right, Traynor," but it came out as a reedy whisper instead of the authoritative statement he’d intended, and the galaxy map wavered and shimmered as he leaned heavily against the railing, his breath hitching before he could draw it into his lungs.

_— what’s wrong with me, mordin?_

_— i warned you. fighting necessary. anger — also necessary. however, much more to you than fighting and anger. pain is not the same as anger. cannot get rid of it by fighting. must mourn those lost, must forgive yourself. must… grieve._

The sharp stinging of his scars brought him back to himself, to Traynor’s supporting hands, to Moreau’s sobered voice — “Don’t worry, Commander; heard you loud and clear. Setting course for the Citadel.” — to the salt water in his wounds. He thought of the ocean again — _i am drowning, i’ve been pulled under,_ — but it was just tears, just tears for now.


End file.
